Stumble
by novemberskie
Summary: Matthew finds himself in a park with Gilbert, who's been acting rather strange lately. Oneshot, PruCan.


_**Warning: Awkward claiming of making pancakes, when no pancakes are going to be made. If you believe that it's super perverted, that's your own mind in the gutter. I simply used it as an excuse to go home..**_

**_I'm beginning to regret using that phrase. ._._**

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><p>Matthew didn't know what was going on anymore. What was that weird tugging sensation just below his stomach? Why was his heart pounding, threatening to beat right out of his chest? Why couldn't he breathe right? Why was there a scorching, yet comforting fire where the man's skin briefly met his? It wasn't something Matthew had experienced before, and if he was honest with himself, it scared him. Boys were not supposed to feel that way around <em>other boys<em>.

"You're blushing again Birdie~" Gilbert chuckled softly, his knuckles grazing Matthew's cheek affectionately.

"I-I am not!" Matthew scooted across the bench they were sharing to get away from the albino, his arms crossed against this chest. He still wasn't used to the strange new way Gilbert had begun to act since the Christmas party Alfred had thrown a week prior.

"Yes you are!" Gilbert replied, scooting over next to Matthew so he was trapped between the frozen empty air beside the bench and Gilbert's warm body. "Why are you blushing?"

"B-Because…" Matthew trailed off, staring at the ground as though it held the answers he needed. "I don't k-know." He finished lamely, not lifting his gaze.

"Is Birdie nervous?" Gilbert cooed, his knuckles once again trailing along Matthew's cheek.

"N-No!" Matthew stood up, trying to make sense of the feelings warring internally. Gilbert seemed to recognize this, and sat patiently, waiting for Matthew to say something. "I… It's just that-I mean I don't… I don't know…"

"Matthew…" He flinched at the sound of his name. "You're acting strange."

"I'm acting strange…?" Matthew blinked in surprise, not sure how to take this news. "You're the one who's…"

"Who's what, Birdie?" Gilbert stood, standing a foot away from Matthew. "I'm the one who's doing what?"

"You're just… I mean y-you're the one who's… I think-"

"Birdie, you're rambling again." Gilbert reached out to touch Matthew, but he moved away from Gilbert's reach. "Bir-"

"Would you be quiet for five seconds?" Matthew snapped, all his pent-up frustration finally taking a toll. He saw a hurt look flash across Gilbert's face, but pretended to ignore it as he put a reminder in the back of his mind to make it up to him later.

Matthew sat on the bench again, tucking his chin against his chest as he crossed his arms, trying to stay as warm as possible as he thought. What were these feelings fighting against him? He felt warmth every time Gilbert looked at him, but he also felt indignation, as though angry not at the albino, but at himself. Matthew let out a small whimper as the wind blew, forcing its way under his Canadian flag sweater.

And then suddenly, all the cold was gone. Two arms had wrapped themselves around Matthew, pulling him against a warm body. "Birdie, you're shivering." The voice said softly, a strange tone to it. Matthew never heard Gilbert's voice sound like that, and he looked to the side, his face suddenly uncomfortably close to Gilbert's.

It wasn't uncomfortable because he didn't like it.

It was uncomfortable because he liked it _too much_…

"I have to go." Matthew said suddenly, pretty much flying from Gilbert's lap, and ran through the park as fast as his legs could carry him. Yes, he felt bad for just leaving Gilbert by himself, but he consoled himself with the fact that he didn't kiss Gilbert, which would have surely ruined any friendship the teenager had given to Matthew. But then again, running may have ruined it...

Gilbert had been the only one at their school—other than Matthew's younger brother, Alfred—who remembered that Matthew actually _existed_. Even the teachers often forgot that Matthew was there, their eyes passing right over his raised hand. Eventually, he had met Gilbert at a student council meeting (Matthew was just a member; he wasn't much of the leading type), and the pair became friends, much to the disdain of two of Gilbert's best friends, who tortured him on a daily basis until Gilbert put an end to it. If only Antonio could get Gilbert and Francis to stop torturing Lovino.

"Matt!" Gilbert's voice behind him made Matthew pause for a moment, but he kept going immediately, to avoid looking at Gilbert, who was likely mad. "_Gott_, Birdie, wait up!"

"Why?" Matthew spun around suddenly, tears glistening in his lilac eyes. "So you can act like you like me and I can get all c-confused again and I-I can get... I can get hurt? No thank you!"

Matthew clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide in shock, as he realized what he had let out. It had been a thought in the back of his mind, and he hadn't realized how much it hurt him until the words flew from his mouth.

"Birdie..." Gilbert cooed, pulling the now-crying Canadian into his arms. "Hush, it'll be okay."

"No it _won't_!" Matthew shoved at Gilbert's chest, only managing to fall backwards when Gilbert released him. "_Je déteste cette_." He muttered in fluent French as Gilbert helped him up.

"Birdie, listen to me." Gilbert gripped Matthew's shoulders, shaking him gently. "What's going on?"

"You're… You… I-I don't-I can't…"

"Birdie…" Gilbert got a strange light in those red eyes of his, and leaned in a little so that his lips were centimeters from Matthew's. "You're rambling again."

Matthew swore he could feel static from Gilbert's lips as he spoke, and he tried to ignore that as he worked up the courage to say what he was about to say. He was just about to speak, when a pair of lips was suddenly pressed against his, a hand against the small of his back to keep him from falling over, and another hand against the back of his neck. Matthew felt the French side of him bubbling its way out as he leaned into the kiss a little too eagerly. Gilbert responded by pulling back, grinning a breathless smile at the pancake-loving Canadian.

"We should go to your house, and you should cook me some pancakes." Gilbert murmured, though somewhere, in the back of Matthew's head, he knew Gilbert wasn't talking about really making pancakes.

_I'm going to regret this in the morning…_

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><p><strong><em>Yep. Really shouldn't have used that phrase, but oh well. What's done is done... I'm done sitting there and overthinking this story xD<em>**

**_I hope you enjoyed it!_**


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